On Being Michael Jackson. No, not that one.

There were none more than me cool,
For Michael Jackson doesn’t go to every school.
Chased by the girls, admired by the boys,
Royalty had nothing on me.
But things changed after that first day.
No longer pursued, no longer a display,
Now the butt of every joke,
Is he your brother? No. Why would our mother give us the same name?
Are you him? No, I’m caucasian.
Can you moon walk? Yes. Hey, why did you stop watching as soon as I started?
Are you married to your sister Janet? Why would I marry my sister... if I was him, I mean.
Year after year it continued on,
Embarrassment in class, attendance did spawn,
Titters from my peers, hiccups from the teacher,
Right up to the end of University.
Even, Buck Shot, yes, Buck Shot,
That cowboy favourite of Calgarian kids,
Announced my birthday with a long list of tykes
But of my name said it must be a joke.
Does he call you? No, having the same name doesn’t mean he knows me.
Where’s your glove? I don’t have one.
As a child, tears of being lost in someone else,
Found a home in my mother’s shoulder at night.
But I grew up.
I found myself.
And started enjoying the prank phone calls...
Wherever you are, if it was really you, Janet,
I’m sorry for what I said on the phone late that night,
I thought it was a prankster, I don’t really think you’re fat.
Now as I meet someone new I know just what to say,
Hey, I say, waiting for the bloom of surprise,
And with a smile in my face, and in my heart, I announce,
Guess what? My name’s Michael Jackson.
Can you sing? Yes, but not quite as good as him.
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Published on June 27, 2011 13:59 Tags: michael-jackson-kids-funny
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